


i think i'm still turning out

by itjustkindahappened



Series: skam fic week [6]
Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Coming Out, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, M/M, Unrequited Love, Weddings, it all works out, vilde has a lot of Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 13:19:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11852409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itjustkindahappened/pseuds/itjustkindahappened
Summary: Chris seemingly does decide to tell Vilde whatever’s bugging her after a while, though. It’s low and it’s cautious, but she says it, and when she does Vilde almost wishes she wouldn’t have.“She’s coming to the wedding, you know.”Noora’s been back in Oslo for three months. Vilde hasn’t seen her in 5 years. She says nothing.





	i think i'm still turning out

**Author's Note:**

> just to be completely clear; the parts written in _italics_ are flashbacks.

_The first time Vilde feels something for Noora, they’re 16 and Vilde feels like they’re on top of the world._

_They’re leaving a party together, and Vilde is drunk and Noora is not but she’s still smiling at everything Vilde’s saying, even when she’s getting obnoxious._

_Vilde’s always had quite a difficult time to place Noora in regards of what kind of friends they are. Noora’s always quick to correct her and educate her on things and shut her ideas down, even, and sometimes Vilde feels like she likes Noora more than Noora likes her, but then again no one takes care of Vilde like Noora does. No one notices when she’s sad, or makes sure she eats, or cheers her up like Noora does._

_So they’re friends. Thing is, Vilde feels something else for her, too, that she can’t quite pinpoint. It’s like her affections are just a bit stronger than she’d have for a normal friend. Maybe it comes with the admiration she has for the girl—she often finds herself wishing she was more like Noora. Suaver, more charming, more intelligent. Prettier. Noora is probably the prettiest girl Vilde knows._

_She’s looking especially pretty right now, with her eyes twinkling from the street lights and her mouth wide and her coat tightly tucked around her._

_Vilde thinks she should know. So she tells her._

_“You’re really pretty tonight,” she announces with a dopey grin._

_She doesn’t know if it’s her own drunkenness just seeing what it wants to see or if it’s actually happening, but she can swear she sees Noora look a little flushed as she smiles back._

_“You’re pretty too, Vilde,” she says softly, and that’s when Vilde feels that fluttering in her chest. She’s never felt butterflies before, even though she likes to think she’s had plenty of crushes on several boys, but she does then. Her heart is speeding up and she can feel her face go hotter under Noora’s gaze, and she thinks, this is something new._

_She pushes it away._

 

~

 

It’s the day of Isak and Even’s wedding, and Vilde has overslept.

Chris is going to drive her there, she’s set to arrive in 20 minutes, and Vilde’s just flown out of bed, currently jumping around on one leg struggling to get her pantyhose on. If there’s one day, one single day in her life where she cannot be late, she’d peg it to be this one.

She does manage to get dressed pretty quickly considering the circumstances and is in the process of putting on mascara when her phone starts buzzing. She throws a look on it and her eyes widen when she sees Isak’s name on the screen, and picks up immediately.

“Do you not have things to do?” she says without any greeting, and she can hear Isak snort on the other side.

“I forgot my tie at home,” he says, and the stress in his voice is detectible. “Have you left yet?”

“No.”

“Could you swing by and get it? It’s on our bed, it’s dark blue—”

“Yeah, of course.”

There’s a deep sigh, and a “thank you,” and Vilde smiles.

“Just chill, okay? Everything’s going to be amazing.”

“It will if you get that tie over here, yeah.”

“ _Relax_. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

She hangs up with a fond eyeroll, and finishes up her makeup as swiftly as she can without risking fucking it up. Nothing can fuck up today, not even the smallest, most insignificant detail. It’s Isak’s and Even’s day, and Vilde’s been with them to plan it every step of the way and despite all the whining from Isak she knows both he and Even’s trusted her to do a good job helping them to plan and she _has_. Vilde knows the ceremony is going to be perfect. She knows the color themes are going to look beautiful. She knows they’ve ordered catering from the best restaurant they could afford, and she knows the cake is award-winning. The wedding has all the potential to be absolutely perfect, and so Vilde feels like fucking up more than sleeping in late this morning would be to jinx it, or something. Call her superstitious, but she’s taking all precautions.

(A part of Vilde also wants to be extra careful with her appearance because she knows that there’s a chance _she’s_ going to be there today. Which she shouldn’t think about at all.

They don’t talk anymore, anyways.)

 

~

_It’s a Friday night in April and the Penetrators are throwing some sort of charity event. Eva’s retching over a fence and Vilde’s stroking her hair lightly with her mitten-clad hand, the tingling of her lips still prominent from the kissing and the pits of her stomach still a bit in rumbles over how much she liked it, and she tries not to overthink it as she mumbles comforting words to her friend._

_As she’s standing there, she hears voices from the bridge a few meters away. She looks over to see what’s going on, and Noora’s blonde hair illuminated by a street light immediately stands out in contrast to the darkness around them. There’s a boy opposite her, too, with his grey hood pulled over his hair, and Vilde immediately recognizes him as William. Her eyebrows furrow as she watches the scene go down, Noora yelling and William just standing there and then the quiet and then Noora launching forward and then—_

_It feels like a car crash is going down inside her body, and she can’t do anything but stand right where she is and just watch. The vision of Noora and William together burns like acid in her lungs, and she feels like shrinking with every time Noora’s hands tangle in William’s hair._

_That’s the moment she fully realizes it, everything washing over her like a nauseating ocean tide._

_Because as she watches the two from a distance, lips locked and laughter echoing throughout the night, she thinks of Noora and all the ways she’s admired her, always thinking nothing more of it than jealousy, a want to be like her, an idolization of something she can never be, and she knows, now. She knows it was never about Noora being something she could never be, it was always about Noora being something she could never_ have _, and she knows that it’s not Noora she wants to swap places with up there right now._

_Vilde can feel tears sting in her eyes._

~

 

Vilde has had plenty of time to come to terms with being a lesbian.

It was a rocky path—it took her a long time to fully be able to sit back and distinguish between what was real attraction and what was just obligations. When Noora was around she’d often talk about things like compulsive heterosexuality and internal homophobia and repression, and though Vilde didn’t really get it at the time, she increasingly understood it more and more. She looked into it a lot on her own, reading article after article and watching video after video. And then there was Isak, too. Isak helped a lot.

If anyone had told her a couple of years ago that she’d end up being such good friends with Isak that she’d have a spare key to his apartment one day, she would’ve laughed. But throughout the years they in fact found common ground—as soon as they realized they have more in common with each other than they could imagine, they’d slowly but surely found a kind of mutual understanding. He’d shown to be great support for her as she struggled to figure out her sexuality and Vilde would come with him and visit his mom a lot if he felt insecure and didn’t know how to handle things. They complement each other in a way that Vilde thinks they’re quite lucky to have.

She’d say she’s happy now. Secure in herself. She isn’t scared anymore, she isn’t repressing anything anymore. She’s dated girls, she’s slept with girls, she has a job, she has wonderful friends. She’s happy now, because there was a time when she thought she’d never achieve it.

It doesn’t take more than a minute or two to run up and fetch Isak’s tie and get back into Chris’ car. She observes the piece of clothing as the engine starts thrumming again, and she wonders if she’ll ever have that piece of happiness, too. That feeling of being so strongly connected to another person that you’re that sure you want to spend the rest of your life with them.

 

~

 

_Noora is sitting on the floor of her apartment with papers, folders and photographs scattered around her. Her hair is in a loose ponytail and she has no makeup on, and she looks small. Frail, Vilde thinks, in a very un-Noora way, and her stomach churns a little but she keeps a smile on her face._

_“Are you feeling up for some friendly company?” she asks lightly._

_Noora just nods, her lips pulled into the faintest of smiles back, and Vilde steps inside and shuts the door behind her. As she sits down in front of her, Noora keeps collecting some of the spread-out sheets on the floor, and Vilde admires her pretty fingers as they pinch around the thin material._

_“What are you doing?” she asks, fiddling a little with the hem of her skirt._

_“Just throwing out some stuff I don’t need anymore.”_

_Vilde just nods quietly, settling for picking up a few of the old photos in front of her. They all look wonderfully idyllic, Noora’s pretty smile stretched wide and her hair falling like moondust over her shoulders, and she can’t help but smile at them. She turns the next photo over to watch, and her breathing hitches just a little._

_Noora’s smiling in this one, too. She’s wearing a beautiful dress and her hair is loose. Her collarbones are prominently protruding, like they’re itching to break free from her skin and her shoulders are fragile and pointy. Vilde swallows._

_“When was this?” she asks, careful to not let her voice shake, showing Noora the picture._

_The girl takes it from her and eyes it pensively._

_“9th grade,” she answers at last. They don’t talk about it._

_Vilde wants to reach out and touch her. She wants to press featherlight fingers into the skin on her hips and her neck and she want to feel Noora’s pink lips on her own and she wants to hold her hand and she wants to tug her close._

_“Have you heard anything from William?” she asks carefully, and the name is bitter on her tongue. Noora just shakes her head and Vilde wants her to smile for_ real _. She wants Noora to smile like she used to before William came along and ruined everything. Vilde feels nothing for him but resentment anymore._

_Still, she tells Noora about William having travelled to London, and she reassures her that of course he’ll come back, because she doesn’t know what else to do. Noora tells her that she’s going to talk to Mari soon, and at that Vilde doesn’t have to fake joy for her._

_“I hope she’s kind of cool,” Noora says with a weak chuckle. “Just, uh. Just not so cool that I slept with her, too.”_

_Vilde acts like the words don’t sting._

_“Are you hungry?” she asks after a while._

_“Eh. No,” is Noora’s immediate reply, and Vilde’s stomach knots. She thinks of the photo. She thinks of Noora’s knowledge about food. She decides Noora is going to eat._

_“I made you something,” she enlightens her._

_“Vilde, I’ve already eaten.”_

_“Do you like tortilla?” she asks, ignoring Noora’s protest completely, and something changes in Noora’s eyes as she makes the connection. She doesn’t say anything, though, so Vilde continues. “What’s so great with tortilla is that it’s made from potatoes. And your body needs potatoes, because potatoes contain a lot of starch, which gives you energy… And vitamin C, which is an antioxidant. And antioxidants help you to not get old skin.”_

_She swallows and pushes out a smile. Her voice doesn’t waver and her eyes aren’t wet._

_“You don’t want old skin when you get together with William again, do you?”_

_Noora finally smiles back, but by then it barely feels as a victory anymore._

_“Then we have to eat tortilla,” she still concludes simply._

_And they do. They eat tortilla in silence, only sharing small, twinkly looks every now and then, and Vilde thinks that no matter how much it’s hurting, this moment right here belongs only to them._

 

~

 

The drive to the ceremony is quiet. Chris seems to be deep in thought, and Vilde is kind of nervous about what that means, because when Chris is hesitating to tell Vilde something, it’s usually because she’s scared of how it will affect Vilde.

Vilde never told anyone except for Isak about her hopeless crush on Noora, and quite honestly—she doesn’t think she’s had to tell anyone else, really. The palpable heartache she went through when the girl left for London with William combined with her coming out to her friends not too long after probably made them figure it out on their own. She at least guesses that’s how it went down, because they always seem hesitant to bring Noora up around her. Vilde’s the only one who hasn’t kept in touch with her, either, with has added to the awkwardness whenever they’ve gotten to the topic. It’s unspoken, but everyone knows something’s been up between the two.

Chris seemingly does decide to tell Vilde whatever’s bugging her after a while, though. It’s low and it’s cautious, but she says it, and when she does Vilde almost wishes she wouldn’t have.

“She’s coming to the wedding, you know.”

Noora’s been back in Oslo for three months. Vilde hasn’t seen her in 5 years. She says nothing.

 

~

 

_Three things are currently happening: They’re at the airport, Noora’s leaving with William, and Vilde’s lungs are going to concave._

_She’s not ready for this. She’s known for such a long time that this is happening, and she knows Noora has made up her mind, but it’s the proximity of her departure that’s really making Vilde have to accept it now and she_ can’t _. Noora’s moving to another country. She’s leaving her. She’s_ leaving _, and Vilde has so many things left to say._

_She gets to know from Eva that Noora went to the bathroom, and without another word, she hurries off to catch her on the way out._

_When Noora comes out of the stall she freezes a little at the sight of Vilde standing there, hands anxiously fidgeting and her gaze flipping between the girl in front of her and the tiles under her feet._

_“Hi,” she says softly. Vilde doesn’t know what to answer._

_For the longest time, they just stand in silence, Vilde opening and closing her mouth time and time again in search for the right words and Noora patiently waiting._

_“You’re really leaving,” she finally says._

_“Yeah.” Noora laughs quietly, but it’s agonizingly forced. “I guess I am. But—but I’ll come and visit still, yeah? It’s not that far away, London. It’s only a two-hour flight.”_

_Her words are supposed to be comforting, but they don’t soothe Vilde’s misery in the slightest._

_“I don’t want you to leave,” she says, and she feels like a broken record but it’s all she knows how to say right now._

_Noora looks to the ground and shakes her head. “You know I have to.”_

_“You don’t have to do_ anything _, Noora.”_

_“Vilde.” Noora’s voice is thick and hushed. “Don’t do this now.”_

_Vilde snaps, then. It’s like everything she’s been holding inside for the past months are all finally bursting free, colliding with each other and pouring out of her, and she can’t handle it. She can’t handle it. She can’t handle it. She can’t_ think _._

_So with a leap forward, she cups Noora’s face, and she kisses her._

_It’s a messy kiss, and it’s bittersweet, and there’s nothing romantic or fluttering or pretty about it as Vilde slots their lips together, and she thinks she’s crying but she’s not sure, but it’s happening and it’s the first real thing she’s ever felt, so she holds on._

_And then, for a second—just a second—Noora kisses her back._

_It all flashes through Vilde’s mind like scenes from a movie—her and Noora, living happily together. Holding hands under the covers. Having breakfast on a sunny balcony in June. Going on coffee dates with their scarves tucked up over their chins. Kissing, all the time, happy kissing and goodnight kissing and comfort kissing and fight kissing and make up kissing and kissing just because they want to and kissing knuckles and cheeks and shoulders and—_

_And then Noora breaks loose, stumbling two steps backwards, and Vilde is roughly pulled out of that parallel universe like a leaf ripped from its branch by autumn wind, and reality dawns upon her._

_Noora looks terrified. Her lips are raw and her eyes and wide, and she looks so scared. Vilde wants to reach out and pull her into a hug, wants to tell her that it’s okay, wants to tell her that she’s sorry._

_She’s not sorry, though. She can’t make herself feel sorry._

_So she doesn’t say anything and Noora doesn’t say anything, and then Noora backs out of the bathroom and practically dives out the door, and that’s the last interaction they have._

_Vilde doesn’t hug her goodbye at the security scans. She stays, in that bathroom until the girls find her, and she cries and cries and cries._

 

~

 

Isak and Even are having an outdoor wedding, and it’s beautifully set up. The sun is shining and it’s just warm enough and it’s green and it’s colourful and it’s lively, and it feels like Mother Earth are giving them her blessing, too.

What’s the most beautiful for Vilde in this moment, though, is that she got there on _time_. Five minutes before the ceremony is set to start, she stumbles into Even and Isak’s lounge and gives Isak his tie, and Isak is clearly minutes away from having a mental breakdown, so she makes sure to give him and Even a hug each, too, for good measure, before scurrying away to find a seat.

She’s pretty sure she’s among, if not the, last one to arrive so there aren’t a lot of seats left, and so she sits down in the first empty spot she can find. She sighs in relief and leans back as soon as she’s seated, knowing that there’s no way she would’ve forgiven herself if she’d actually ended up being late.

She’s here. She’s looking good. Isak has his tie. Her friends are getting married. She’s finally set on relaxing and just enjoying the day.

And then pretty much the only thing in the entire world with the power to tangle her stomach up in knots at that moment acknowledges itself beside her.

“Vilde?”

 _Shit_.

Vilde knows that voice. She’s pined and mourned and shed so many tears with that exact voice ringing in her head, has had dreams echoing that voice to her long after she’s woken up, she still sometimes wishes for it to suddenly show up and call her name, just like it’s doing right now, and Vilde can barely breathe.

With her jaw tightly clenched to maintain her composure, she turns to her left and is met by bright, green eyes and a tentative, red-lipped smile.

Noora looks good—amazing, even. Her hair has grown out and her face is rosier than when Vilde last saw it. She’s still the most beautiful woman Vilde’s ever seen.

“Noora,” she breathes out. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Noora tilts her head to the side and watches Vilde with something unreadable in her eyes. “How’ve you been?”

“Why are you _here_?” Vilde blurts out without thinking, and then clamps her teeth down on her lip and grimaces. “Sorry, that sounded rude. You’re their friend, too.”

Noora just shakes her head slightly.

“It’s fine. I get it. It’s been a while.”

Vilde nods, giving out a breathy chuckle.

“Do you—are you living here now?” she asks, even though she already knows.

“Yeah, since a couple of months back.”

“That’s nice.”

“Mhm. It’s good to be home.”

Silence falls between them for a while, Vilde nervously fidgeting with her hands and straightening out crinkles on her skirt to avoid looking at Noora, not sure what to do now. She can feel Noora’s gaze on her the entire time, though.

“I missed you, Vilde,” she says, and her eyes are so earnest Vilde’s heart quivers.

“I missed you too.”

It’s barely above a whisper, but the words are out there, for the first time in five years, and Vilde feels strangely light. She has missed Noora. She hasn’t allowed herself to ever say the words, but she has.

And now that Noora is sitting next to her, calm and kind and _home_ , Vilde figures maybe admitting that isn’t the end of the world.

 

~

 

_She's at a party and it's a great one and all her friends are there but it doesn't really matter because she still feels alone, and Noora's gone, and her heart lies heacy and cold in the pit of her stomach._

_It's a nice night, the cool August breeze soothing her skin and filling her lungs. She needs it right now. Too much has happened in too short of a time, and her thoughts are all a jumbled mess and it freaks her out. She's not used to being this out of control. Tears are brimming in her eyes and she wipes at them quickly. She's shed too many tears over this already._

_Suddenly someone stumbles outside, nearly kicking out the bottle of wine next to her. Vilde flinches and looks up to see Isak. His eyes are slightly hazy, but when he sees the probably devastated look on Vilde's face, they widen, startled. Vilde turns back, wiping at her nose._

_"Are you... Okay?"_

_Isak is evidently so uncomfortable, so longing to be anywhere but here, but Vilde is heartbroken and she can't let her guard down to anyone else yet._

_"I'm in love with my friend and she just moved to London with her boyfriend."_

_Out of all people she thought would be the first to hear her say those words out loud, Isak is among the last ones on her list, but her chest feels a little less tightened regardless._

_It's quiet behind her for so long she figures Isak has left, and she can't blame him, really. They're not close. He didn't sign up to hear some closeted, unrequited love story, and he definitely doesn't owe her some kind of advice or consolation._

_But after a while, he sits down next to her, folding his hands in his lap, and sighs._

_"Yeah," he mumbles. "I get you."_

_Something changes between them after that night._

 

~

 

The wedding reception is delightful. Isak and Even are all bright smiles and giddy laughter and gentle kisses and Vilde is so happy for them she thinks she could burst. She holds a speech, and so does Jonas, and Magnus, and all of the Balloon Squad all at once (it’s a mess but everyone loves it), Even’s dad, and Isak’s mom (Vilde can swear that Isak’s eyes are glistening a little with tears at that and she remembers his worry and anxiety about whether his mom would even be able to come or not, and she can’t help but smile so widely).

To conclude, things are pleasant and people are drunk, and Vilde’s having fun, she is. But it’s also getting late and she’s a morning person and she’s generally quite simply, just in need for some time in silence.

(It might also have to do with the fact that she keeps locking eyes with Noora and she kind of wants it to mean something but she has no idea if it actually does and it’s making her head hurt in a way it hasn’t in a long time.)

She quickly lets Sana know that she’s going out for some fresh air, and then quickly and subtly makes her way towards the exit and out into the garden. The cool breeze hits her in the face as soon as she makes it there, and her breathing goes a little steadier, relieved. Her head feels clearer already. There’s a lonely, white park bench standing in the shadow of a humble cherry tree a few meters away, and she walks up to it to sit down.

How long she sits there exactly, she doesn’t know. It’s probably longer than a normal pause for fresh air should be, but Vilde can’t really find it in herself to care. She closes her eyes and lets her chest rise and fall.

What finally startles her out of her sleepy state is another person.

“Hey,” is all they say, and Vilde’s eyes fly open, not even having to look to know who’s approached her to know who it is. She inhales deeply and slowly, letting it out through her mouth before looking to her side to see Noora there once again, softened by the faint gloominess the summer night surrounds them by.

“Hi,” she replies lowly, moving over a little so Noora also can sit.

Noora smiles at the gesture and takes a seat. The bench is more than spacious enough for both of them, but she still chooses to shuffle so close that their arms brush together. Vilde bites back a shiver.

“It was a beautiful wedding,” the red-lipped girl says conversationally. “Wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Vilde agrees, the corners of her mouth perking up a little. “I’m so happy for them. I don’t think I’ve seen Isak smile so much and so widely in one single day before.”

Noora huffs out a small laugh.

“Do you think they ever had doubts? About each other? Like, do you think it was ever in the cards for them that they weren’t it for each other?”

Vilde shakes her head.

“No.” She says confidently. “No, I think they’ve just always known.”

Noora is quiet beside her for a moment, considering this.

“Wish I’d known, too,” she mumbles at last. “I wish I’d known five years ago.”

Vilde has a hard time swallowing.

“You’ll get there, too,” she can’t help but say in an attempt at cheering her up a little. “Not everyone can get it right the first time. God knows I didn’t.”

She wrinkles her nose thinking about all the years she spent chasing boys she knew she could never have and kissing girls only when she was drunk so she had something to blame it on in the morning, believing that that’s what love was supposed to be like for her. She’s thankful she’s not there anymore. She’s a different person now, than when she pulled Noora into her with tears running down her cheeks in the airport restroom five years ago, confused and afraid and so in love her whole body ached with it.

As she looks over at Noora now, at the blonde strands of hair falling in her face and the little curve of her nose and her heart-shaped lips, she thinks that last part might not be all that different.

And Noora’s looking back at her. For moments and moments, they just look at each other, and Vilde feels like seasons should be changing in the spaces between their breaths.

“I think I’m already on my way to,” Noora’s reply finally comes, and it’s not more than a murmur. She’s so close by now Vilde can feel the warm air of it on her lips.

“Yeah?” she just whispers back.

Noora nods in such small motions it’s barely visible and then finally, _finally_ , she closes the space between their lips.

It’s calm and it’s secure and it’s right, this time around. Noora’s lipstick is smudging and the angle is a little awkward, but Vilde isn’t scared and Noora isn’t leaving and they’re both willing to take their time, an unspoken agreement between them that they won’t have to rush. They won’t ever have to rush again. Noora’s hand is travelling up and settling on Vilde’s cheek, running a gentle thumb up to the soft skin behind her ear, and Vilde breathes stardust. She exhales sunlight.

Noora tastes like cherry wine and sunsets. Vilde hopes she can have it for forever, this time.

**Author's Note:**

> man this was....... emotional to write i love my lesbians ( i hope the concept wasn't too confusing ripppp)
> 
> as always, comments and kudos make me smile and sing and feel love every day, and if u wanna talk u can find me on tumblr @tequiladimples xxxxx<33333


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